“Step Right Up” by Tom Waits

I love Tom Waits’ moody side as much as anyone. Those early records from the ’70s are especially full of slow, minor-key, low-life themed masterpieces. But even early-on, before the gonzo eclecticism of his later work, Waits could throw us a nice curveball now and then. On 1976’s Small Change, “Step Right Up” follows one of Waits’ greatest, darkest lyrics (“Tom Traubert’s Blues”) with an up-tempo parody of a sleazy sales pitch. In between lines that could be ripped from any back-of-a-magazine advert, Waits manages to weave a ridiculous list of negative product claims, “It steals your car… It forges your signature” and so on:

Well it takes weights off hips, bust, thighs, chin, midriff,
Gives you dandruff, and it finds you a job, it is a job
And it strips the phone company free take ten for five exchange,
And it gives you dandruff
And you know it’s a friend, and it’s a companion
And it gets rid of your traveler’s checks

There’s also something else going on in the lyrics that Waits fans will recognize from later songs like “16 Shells from a Thirty-ought-six.” He inserts little references to music where they might otherwise seem out of place: “It plays a mean rhythm master… and it doubles on sax.”

The band, which includes jazz drummer Shelley Manne and saxophonist Lew Tabackin, steams its way right through the song, a perfect accompaniment and a nice approximation of cheesey night-club jazz. But it’s really Waits’ gruff rapid-fire delivery that makes the song work. He’s part auctioneer, part beat poet. It’s a brilliant performance that makes “Step Right Up” stand out as a comic highlight among some of Waits most intense work. Come on in and check it out from our rock section.